they told us don't surrender
by Vanille Strawberry
Summary: Brittany and Santana have been called to fight in a deadly war and feel the full force of their separate responsibilities.
1. balls to the walls: hurry up

They told us don't surrender, even if you were losing

~0~

The air was polluted with the sound of gunfire and explosions. The shrieking tone of overhead planes soaring across the blood soaked battlefield made both enemy and ally duck for cover as First Lieutenant Brittany Pierce of the Deutschland army platoon 105 loaded her gun and took aim. She'd positioned herself up on a high grassy bank overlooking the ravine that the enemy was trudging through and was picking them off with morbid nonchalance.

She kept firing, kept shooting the American troops down each time a fresh wave emerged and challenged her territory with their own shots. She was under strict orders that the enemy was not to pass the ravine and reach the home camps in the Gimmerton village over the hills behind her. But their forces were depleting and the American's seemed to multiply before their very eyes. There was always more and Brittany heard Sam and Quinn swear from their posts as another surge of American soldiers lumbered through tossing grenades that came too close for comfort.

"WE WON'T BE ABLE TO HOLD THEM OFF!" Sam roared, dusting the debris from a hand grenade from his shoulders. He repositioned and fired without waiting for a response from his two companions.

Brittany knew he was right. There were too many and they were running dangerously low on ammo. They'd sent a scout to Gimmerton four hours ago to request some backup and ammunition but Private Lengies hadn't returned and no word had come from their superiors since. They were flying solo and chances of survival were slim to none.

"I think we should leave while we're still alive!" Quinn said as there came a lull in the action and they took the opportunity to reload.

Brittany knew she was right. If they persisted until nightfall she knew they probably wouldn't see the sun rise in the morning. But their orders were strict and direct: Protect the ravine. Going against superiors had dire consequences that Brittany couldn't afford; not with two little sisters to care for back home and a mother who'd become so broken by her stepfather's death she couldn't get out of bed in the morning. With a grave sigh, Brittany rubbed at her forehead, aching with the echo of bombs long gone off and squatted down low, turning her head to catch a glimpse of their dead heaped under a smattering of bent trees. They were the last three. All the others had perished in the last two hours of battle. Brittany owed it to them to keep going, to make their sacrifice count.

The sound of footsteps made Sam turn in alarm and Brittany faintly heard him call out for the intruder to show themselves as Brittany scoped the inside of the ravine for unlucky survivors.

"Sugar!" Quinn exclaimed suddenly and Brittany looked up to the see tiny little Sugar Lengies limping towards them with her helmet askew and blood splashed across her once pristine uniform.

She saluted and squatted between Brittany and Quinn, eyes glancing around frantically and hands shaking violently. She swallowed before speaking and Brittany thought that her voice seemed broken and unused, as though she'd been struck speechless in the time they'd sent her out to get help. The fact that she'd come back alone was making Brittany anxious and her finger twitched nervously on the trigger of her gun still poised to shoot.

"G-Gimmerton's been taken," the girl hiccupped. "American troops are behind me. Everyone's either dead or captured." And with her message relayed Sugar broke into long overdue sobs chin tucked into her chest as Sam wrapped a bandaged arm around her quaking shoulders.

"We have to get out of here," Quinn hissed and hitched her gun over her shoulder. "They'll come at us from the front and rear and we won't stand a chance."

"But the orders?" Brittany said uncertainly.

"Fuck the orders, Brittany!" Quinn's eyes were steely and desperate looking, like the way they always looked when she prayed to God before every battle and late at night when the sound of gunfire drowned out her words of thanks for another day on this earth. "We're alone! No one's coming to help us! It's over, Brittany. We need to go before we die like the others."

At the mention of their dead friends and companions Sugar flinched. She was green to the harsh realities of war and had taken the casualties in their platoon a lot harder than Sam, Quinn and Brittany had. The three had already been in the army when the war had begun and had experienced combat and what it entailed before all of this madness had started. Sugar however had been one of the soldiers forced into service through conscription and had not reconciled the kind people on her platoon, the ones who'd helped her along in her formation, with the pile of rotting dead bodies in the corner.

Brittany took one look at Sugar's red and pained features and made up her mind. She crawled back from the grassy hill and into the hastily dug trench, hoisting her pack over her shoulders and entreating the others to do likewise with large panicked eyes. Quinn made the sign of the cross and the four soldiers of the Deutschland army marched hurriedly in the opposite direction of the oncoming American troops.

* * *

Santana hated this. She hated trudging through mud, and rain, and God knew what else; hated that she was under the command of Captain Finn Hudson, the bumbling idiot from Lima Ohio; hated that Mike Chang, her best friend, was favouring his left leg as they marched side by side. He grit his teeth when she wasn't looking and smiled when she did and all that passed through Santana's mind was how Mike would never again dance on a stage. And how they would all probably return home in rapidly made coffins.

"How's everyone holding up?" Finn called back and everything in Santana itched to run up to the front of the group and knock a few of his teeth out.

"Fine," Left Lieutenant Puckerman called from behind them.

Santana thought about how they were a lot less than fine. Four soldiers had died in the last three hours and they kept marching, kept limping in Mike's case, towards the enemy. Gimmerton village was the objective and Hudson had apparently had made it his mission in life to reach it by any means necessary – if that meant engaging the enemy in unsafe battle then so be it. They'd lost too many good men along the course of the past few days because of people like Hudson and the old military ideals.

Suddenly the group halted. A shouted order from Puckerman sent the soldiers scrambling into defensive positions along the mouth of what Santana thought could be a gulley. It was quiet but, upon close inspection of the floor, Santana saw the streams and pools of blood marking the battlefield.

"Walsh! Brown! Scout out the opening!"

Two young men kneeling behind Santana moved uncertainly to the mouth of the ravine and peered across some boulders. Gun poised and heart thumping, Santana waited for their signal to make entry into the potentially dangerous ravine where the German soldiers could be potentially hiding to ambush them. One man ventured out bravely into the open and when no immediate shot was fired the second trailed after him. Santana held her breath and let it out noisily again when Walsh whistled sharply and Hudson moved into action.

The ravine was saturated with blood. Bodies lay sprawled at awkward angles, dirty and bedraggled. Some looked like they'd simply lay down for a nap and the urge to shake them awake was strong in Santana before she remembered where she was. This was a war. This was the reality she had to come to terms with. These people were never going to wake up from their eternal slumbers.

It looked like the Germans had packed it in though. No warning shots were fired and no soldier was decapitated where he stood. However they were still wary. Santana raised her weapon along the grassy banks of the cliffs of the ravine and searched for any trace, any glint, of a German helmet hiding in the undergrowth.

"They must have gotten bored," Mike murmured in the unbearable silence.

Bored. Right.

"Area is secure, Sir!" Puckerman called out from the bottom of the ravine leading up to a small path leading into a dense forest. It looked like the forest in the fairy tales Santana's grandmother used to read to her as a little girl. Only this was no fairy tale and her grandmother had long since disowned and forgotten about her gay granddaughter.

"We keep moving," Hudson began, scanning the skies, "until we find unit 206. They should be going west of Gimmerton village. Onwards!"

"And where did you get this intel!" Santana asked sceptically.

"Shut your mouth, soldier!" he roared and she fell despondently silent as they began marching once more.

Mike pat her arm reassuringly and she willed the tears back as they stepped in puddles of blood towards what she felt was a suicide mission.

* * *

They'd walked for days without rest, too spooked to even think about stopping for a bite to eat or even a bathroom break. The only thing that broke their long silences as they marched was the sound of Quinn reciting her old Latin prayers and Sugar hesitantly joining in with her broken voice that fractured Brittany's heart in two. She and Sam kept resolutely silent, guns heavy in their arms as they mapped out the areas and roads in their heads. If they kept heading west they'd hopefully bypass the American troops altogether. And, if by some unlucky chance they happened upon an American battalion, Brittany had retained enough of her old accent to pull off a lost and frightened American soldier to a tee. Sugar was fluent in five languages but Quinn and Sam's broken English would be a dead giveaway. They'd have to feign either muteness or shock.

They came across a small farm on their third day of travelling along the edge of a forest and Sam bullied them into stopping for some sleep and nourishment. They hid inside the barn and shed their clunky boots and helmets, climbing into the hayloft and sleeping for hours. When they awoke it was to the sound of an offended cow which they milked quickly and then pressed on without a backwards glance.

Part of Brittany hoped they would meet with another German unit and join its ranks. Anything would be better than this lost wandering they were doing. They were jittery and the uncertainty of their fate had thrown them all back to better times. Sam talked about working in his father's shop selling used car parts as his little brother and sister played hide and seek behind the shelves. Sugar told them about her kind, warm-hearted father who'd bought a plethora of pianos for her secondary school's choir. Quinn murmured honey coated words of Church picnics with her older sister and parents under a shady weeping willow in their back garden – how she'd never been able to finish the banoffee pie served annually no matter how hard she tried.

Brittany remained staunchly silent.

They'd decided to set up a camp inside the dense and dark forest, listening to Sugar tell them about her beau back home, an Irish lad who'd fled the country when the troubles started, when they heard it. The chatter of a battalion. The crunch of army issued boots. The rough hardened American voice of a leader who was coming closer.

"Engage or flee?" Quinn whispered as they sat very, very still and waited to see if the battalion would pass by them.

"We play it by ear," Sam replied even as Sugar began to tremble.

Brittany lowered her weapon just as the first American soldier came into view. It was a tall lanky man and he led his group past their secluded spot without noticing the four German soldiers sitting on their haunches, guns in hand.

Brittany felt her heart pound in trepidation. The foliage wasn't a great cover and she just hoped beyond hope one of the soldiers wouldn't turn to look around. And, just as she was thinking this, a small woman beside a tall limping Chinese man came into view and something in Brittany stilled. It was like a great calm had descended and a fog had lifted from over her eyes. The American soldier, the woman who had warmed Brittany right to her core from just a glimpse of her face, turned and their eyes caught.

Beside her Sam raised his gun and took aim.

* * *

Santana's breath hitched. Her heartbeat tripled its pace and grew four sizes, her knees weakened and a shiver ran down the length of her spine. The other woman's eyes were such a beautiful shade of blue and Santana could hardly fathom the small little half smile on her face. Like they'd been friends newly reunited after a long absence. In fact, all Santana wanted to do was run to her and dive into her arms. The mere thought of this both intrigued and terrified her.

She felt, rather than saw, the gun suddenly pointed at her and braced herself for the shot that would end it all. The only comfort she could take from this demise would be that she got to stare into her soulmate's eyes before she met her maker. She was sure this woman was the real deal. Her Abuela had always said that she'd know who her soulmate was in a fraction of a second. Of course she'd been talking about a man at the time but the advice was still sound.

Santana had found her and that was all that mattered.

But the male German soldier never pulled the trigger. Santana never felt the bullet enter her brain. The woman, the woman she'd just fallen in love with, ordered him with angry German words to lower his gun and then entreated her with big puppy dog eyes to keep moving, to get away. Santana nodded succinctly and moved on after her battalion, astonished to find that the entire exchange had taken less than a minute.

* * *

A/N: Reason for this fic? I sorta-kinda wanted to join the army at one point. Still do.


	2. araspeek: head over heels

They told us don't surrender, even if you were losing

~0~

The war began in 2036 following a massive world wide economic collapse.

America saw its senior bankers flinging themselves from the tops of sky scrapers; people (too many to count) immigrated to find work ... but most starved to death instead. Every industry imaginable in France went on strike; The usually laid back Italians instigated another 'March on Rome' to pressure their government to take action; The English watched their TV's with anxious countenances as their King, sombre faced and with worry glistening in his eyes, told his people to 'stay calm and carry on'. And the Irish ... well, the Irish did very little at all, as per usual. Figures.

The United Nations imposed extreme sanctions on world trade and foreign affairs. Loans dried up, tourism became slim to non-existent and suddenly, countries began to turn on each other. Spain, Holland and Poland threatened to pull out unless their debts were written off, and in the chaos, Germany watched as its people went hungry and threatened to overthrow its government unless changes were made, and made fast. Thus, the United Nations watched, flabbergasted, as Germany pulled out and the ominous threat of a war hung over everyone's heads.

Arnold Schaeffer, a member of the German parliament affiliated with the Labour party, stood and addressed the Parliament in his crisp clean suit with his shaven ashen face and proclaimed that the solution to Germany's fallen economy was another war. Other members were appalled but listened as Schaeffer spoke about invading its neighbouring countries (Poland, Croatia, Austria), giving the German people more land to farm and allowing the Polish, Croatian and Austrians to live and work alongside them peacefully.

Majority vote saw the 'Lebenstraum' Bill passed.

A referendum saw the majority of Germans agreeing with Parliament.

8th months later, on the 22nd of October 2036, Germany invaded Poland.

Private Brittany Pierce helped her platoon secure the city of Kraków and remained there for a year and a half, repelling Polish rebels and killing her first enemy with a captured handgun.

On the 1st of January, France, England and Italy declared war.

Two years later, America had joined the fight.

Private Santana Lopez would meet Lieutenant Brittany Pierce (who had now killed over 3,000 enemy soldiers) three months before the end of the war. But to whom the victory belongs is still a mystery.

* * *

Brittany, rocked from the encounter with what she was sure was the woman she was supposed to be with, got to shaky feet and pressed her hands against the rough bark of a tree. The pain grounded her and the harder she pressed the more present she felt. The American had thrown her, had seared something precious and fragile over her heart. She faintly heard Quinn and Sam muttering to each other about the American's unorthodox flight but all she could think was that she had to get back to her – she had to follow the American unit.

"What the hell just happened?" Sugar whispered shrilly, hands grappling for her own gun.

Brittany whirled to face them. Quinn was staring at her like she had never seen her before and Sam was muttering under his breath. "I have to follow her," she blurted.  
"WHAT?" Quinn exclaimed.

Sam hushed her and she ignored him.

"Follow her?" she ground out harshly, "For what?"

"She's it!" Brittany declared giddily. "She's it, Quinn. I can't explain it but she is!"

"She's what?" Sugar said watching them bemusedly. "I'm kind of lost here."

"My soulmate, my person, my true love – whatever you want to call it – she's it!"

"You've gone fucking crazy," Sam said with wide panicked eyes. "I think all the stress melted your brain."

Brittany frowned and kicked at a stone. "No! Listen to me, she is. I know she is. And she knows too!"

Quinn muttered a flurry of curses but fastened her gun in its holster with slow deliberate moves. Sugar watched the interactions with a sombre countenance and saw both Quinn and Sam sigh with resignation at their friend's certainty and assuredness that this American woman was her soulmate.

"You're coming with me?" Brittany's eyebrows rose.

"Falling in love at first sight in the middle of WWIII?" Sam grinned a large boyish grin. "Stranger things have happened I guess. Could be worse. You could have fallen for that dopey looking giant leading them."

Brittany blinked the tears back around the biggest smile.

* * *

They'd set up camp 30 miles west of Gimmerton on the edge of a clearing bordering the end of the forest. Inside their tent Mike snored like a dozy bear, his arm thrown over his eyes and mouth open as clean as a cat's. Beside him Santana lay in her sleeping bag, staring at the ceiling of the tent and thinking of blonde hair and blue eyes.

Her heart beat a painful rhythm against her chest, beating to escape and regain the German soldier who owned it. Part of Santana was appalled. The Germans, she'd been taught, would not waste an opportunity to maim or kill. A German's sole purpose was total annihilation and conquest. An American's objective was to neutralise, to protect and destabilise the enemy. Not fall in love with them.

Outside the tent Santana heard an eagle cry.

The sound made her brows furrow. Eagles weren't native to this part of the country. She hastily crawled out of the tent when she heard it again, grabbing her gun as she went, and glancing at a still sleeping Mike.

"I'll be back," she whispered hoping against hope that she wasn't telling a lie.

The sentry on duty was scanning the skies when she passed and barely lifted his head when she murmured she was just going to the mouth of the forest to relieve herself. The cool breeze was nice on her hair which she'd let loose for the night and Santana inhaled the mountain air deeply.  
The eagle cried again.

She hastened her step and gripped her gun more securely against her breast, scanning the overhead tree branches when she entered the forest. It was dark and the moonlight was fractured as it tried to penetrate the dense foliage. Santana could barely see anything as she walked slowly and purposefully into the thick of the wood.

"HALT!"

She froze at the German accent. A powerful shudder ran down her body and she unclipped the safety of her gun. Sound melted until all she could hear was her own ragged breathing and the crunch of twigs under her heavy boots.

"Lower your weapon!" was barked from above and Santana grit her teeth as she swivelled in a circle, her gun raised.

"I will only when you show yourself!" she spat and her eyes scanned around quickly for any signs of movement or life.

Suddenly a tree to her right shook and she turned, took aim and waited. Branches were pushed aside until suddenly there they were. The four German soldiers who'd let her go earlier sitting on the branches with their guns raised and hard expressions on their faces. All but one.

"You," Santana said in awe.

"What's your name?" her blonde soldier asked her eyes heavy and wanting.

"Santana Lopez," she responded stiffly. "Name yourself!"

Her blonde soldier smiled a heartbreakingly beautiful smile and dropped from the tree, landing so gracefully she made the drop look effortless. Santana knew it couldn't be from the way her companions dropped like stones and lay in a moaning rumpled heap at her feet.

"My name is Brittany Pierce. My friends are Sam, Quinn and Sugar."

"Pierce?" Santana repeated uncertainly. "That's an American name."

Brittany's smile dimmed. "I was born in America. My father is an American. Howard Pierce. He owns a hardware store in Columbus Ohio."

Santana lowered her gun and took a breath that didn't seem to fill her lungs. Brittany's presence was making her head fuzzy and her heart beat hard and fast as it saw the object of its affections only a few feet away. She wanted to rush into her arms, wanted to taste those pink lips and breathe hotly over pale lush skin. She wanted to know what it felt like to be whole now that she'd found her.

They stood frozen for a moment. Santana searched the other girl's eyes for a trace of what she remembered seeing in the forest. Adoration, love and affection. Brittany seemed to be doing the same but Santana took a step back all the same when the German inched closer.

"I …" she began nervously, the grip on her gun growing painful.

"I just want to talk," Brittany said softly, quietly, advancing in tiny steps like Santana was a rabbit about to bolt. "Just talk. Please, Santana."

The sound of her name on Brittany's lips sounded so right. Like she'd been christened purposefully so that Brittany could say her name, could elongate the syllables and curl her tongue around the S like the softest lullaby.

The action that really sold her however was Brittany tossing her gun to the side and opening her arms out as though saying 'I'm no threat to you, Santana. I swear'.

At this action, with Brittany looking at her so earnestly, Santana took a deep breath and took a step forward.

* * *

They sat close together at the base of a tree and some bushes and talked. Brittany's fellow soldiers had grouped together under their own tree and threw them sporadic glances, bodies taut and dark khakis blending all too well with the gloom of the forest. Santana swallowed awkwardly each time the blonde, Quinn, glared at her, which was often.

"Tell me about yourself," Brittany murmured.

Santana licked her dry lips and looked into dark eyes. "What do you want to know?" she croaked out.

"Tell me where you're from. About your family. What's your favourite colour?"

Santana laughed incredulously at this last one and she looked so stunned Brittany bit the inside of her cheek to keep from giggling. Though Santana knew Brittany was laughing with her, as apposed to at her, from the way her eyes crinkled at the edges.

"It's purple," she said around a smile. "My favourite colour. What's yours?"

"Green," Brittany replied. "Like grass green, not sea-green. I always thought the sea was ugly."

Santana broke out into a sweat when Brittany suddenly grabbed her hand and held it between dirty smeared pale ones. The static in Brittany's touch was revitalising and the warmth that coursed through her veins was foreign but not unwelcome. Santana lay her unoccupied hand on Brittany's knee and revelled in the wide beaming smile that the German soldier offered her at the gesture.

"I'm the youngest of two," Santana whispered. "My older brother is stationed somewhere in France. His name is Fernandez but we call him Fernie." Brittany chuckled and scooted closer. "I'm from California. L.A actually. I own a gym there. My brest friend came with me to the army; you might have seen him actually, tall Asian guy?"

"The man limping next to you?"

Santana grimaced at the reminder of his injury but nodded. "Yeah. Mike. He was a dancing instructor in the gym for a couple of years before they discovered him and he moved to New York to become a dancer on Broadway. When he heard that I was volunteering he flew over and we joined together."

Brittany rubbed a thumb over Santana's knuckles as she hung her head in thought. "He's a good friend," she said at last.

Santana nodded mutely but scooted closer again. "What about you, Brittany? Tell me about you, please."

Brittany inhaled deeply and looked at Santana. The American was so close and smelled like the rolling hills and musty stench of earth, but underneath that, Santana's natural scent wafted strongly until it had fogged up all of Brittany's senses. She released a breath and rested her forehead gently against Santana's, hands releasing Santana's to grasp the soldier's waist gently. She felt Santana jump under her palms but thanked Quinn's God that the other woman hadn't pulled away from the loose embrace.

"I was born in Columbus Ohio but my father never wanted me. He was already married and had made my mother believe he'd leave his wife for her. When I was born he waited until I was eight before telling her he never wanted to see us again. I never understood why he never lived with us or why he never came to any of my ballet recitals and stuff. In the end Ma took me back to Germany and the German people took me in as one of their own. My mother met my stepfather and that was it. "

Santana felt Brittany tremble and inched bravely to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. The tender touch had Brittany gasping softly.

"What else?" Santana murmured and felt Brittany's grip tighten.

"My favourite sound is the sound of the church bells in my village in the morning. I love shrimp-" Santana giggled. "And I've always been in the army. I joined right after school because I couldn't take books anymore."

"What about your family?" Santana asked. "Do you have brothers and sisters?"

"I'm the oldest of three. I have two little sisters."

"What are their names?" Santana said a little breathlessly. Her hands rose until they had cupped Brittany's face gently and both girls closed their eyes at the contact.

"Johanna and Emilia. They're my entire world …" Brittany paused. "Can I ask you a question?"

Santana nodded minutely.

"Do you feel that? Do you feel what I feel?"

Santana's eyes pinched and she nodded once more. "I think I'm in love with you, Brittany," she squeaked.

Brittany leaned down and captured Santana's bottom lip, kissing the soldier strongly and smiling into the contact when Santana framed her face strongly and kissed her back with equal fervor.

"I know I'm in love with you," Brittany whispered into her mouth.

* * *

Santana learned that Sugar could speak English, French, Italian, Spanish and German fluently; and that Sam was the one who'd made the bird call to lure her out into forest, "Eagle," he'd said, "Because nation's symbol, yes?" Quinn then, sat next to Sugar, stayed mostly silent, fingering her rosary beads and watching her intently. And Brittany, her Brittany, kept her tucked safely against her chest and pressed small kisses to her skin and lips whenever the mood struck.

"I remembered something else about me," Brittany would mutter against her ear when her friend's conversations didn't include them. "I really like cats."  
Santana would kiss her like she'd paint a portrait. With soft languid strokes and gentle brushes. She wanted to savour the taste, the feel of Brittany's lips against her own forever. Perhaps this moment, this night, would be the only one they'd have together. How could they possibly keep their love alive in the grips of this war on two opposing sides?

"What now?" Sugar asked when an hour had passed and Brittany had hid her face in the soft skin of Santana's neck, gently nuzzling as the American soldier dozed quietly in the silence.

Brittany pulled back and looked at them all. Santana, groggy but waking from Brittany's sudden motion, turned her head back towards camp, thinking of the sentry who'd wonder where she'd gone if she didn't return soon. Sam noticed and he seemed to whimper when Brittany also caught on and her eyes filled with tears. She couldn't be separated from Santana, not when they'd just found each other. The separation would be too painful, the uncertainty of what would happen if the Americans found out that Santana had been fraternizing with the enemy was almost too much to bear.

She'd never opened up to anyone like she'd opened up to Santana. They'd talked about everything. Santana had told her that her grandmother, the one who had disowned her, had read Hansel and Gretel to her every night when she was a child. Brittany told her that she'd seen her stepfather kiss the baker's wife when she was fifteen but hadn't told anyone in case her mother took them away like she'd taken Brittany away from her father. Santana had listened, had held her and dried her tears. Without a shadow of a doubt Brittany knew Santana was her one true love and she couldn't bear to watch her walk away now.

"Stay," Brittany begged hoarsely. "Stay with me. Please, Santana."

"I can't." She cupped Brittany's face and pecked her lips. "I have to go back. I owe it to my country and to Mike."

"So you're going to keep going and kill my people?" Brittany's eyes hardened and Santana glared back at her for the accusation. "Instead of staying with me you're going back to them?"

"Kill your people?" Santana repeated lowly, dangerously. "Brittany, you've killed my people too. I don't even want to know how many. But I'm telling you right now, that I'm going back because I took an oath to my country. You should understand that better than anyone."

"I understand that our love means nothing to you apparently!" Brittany cried, lurching to her feet and pacing heatedly in front of them.

"It means everything to me, Brittany!" Santana yelled passionately," Everything! But I need to do what's right for the world first. I need to stop your people from destroying everything!"

"Nein!" Sam roared, apparently having understood some of what was being said. "American come, American take!"

Santana laughed incredulously. "Is that what you've been told? We haven't taken anything! We're trying to stop your government from taking over! We don't care about your economy or what you do but the moment you invade some defenceless country is the moment we intervene!"

The sound of a gun's safety being unclipped made everyone freeze and Santana suddenly found Quinn standing and aiming her gun straight at her heart.

"Leave, American," Quinn said powerfully in her thick accent.

Santana tensed her jaw and nodded at the same moment that Brittany erupted at her companion and Sam had to pull them apart. Santana picked her gun from the floor and looked at Brittany whose tears were running down her trembling cheeks.

"I love you," she said slowly and clearly so that even her friends could understand. "I love you with my entire being, Brittany. But I have to do this."

Brittany nodded. She rubbed her forearm against her wet eyes and approached Santana for one last kiss. They both moaned brokenly against each other's mouths and hands tangled in hair, ran down necks and grasped clothing tightly.

"I love you," Brittany whispered and then Santana was gone, trotting back to the people who were trying to invade her beloved Germany.

* * *

"You were gone a while," Mike murmured sleepily when Santana had slunk back in their tent and thrown herself down on her sleeping bag.

She grunted back at him. He laughed.

"Bathroom," she muttered bleakly before closing her eyes and trying desperately to fall asleep. Mike seemed to have other ideas however.

"It's weird isn't it?" he threw at her. "Being here and fighting."

"Mm."

"I mean I remember when there was talk of another war but the guys and I hardly believed it you know? Stuff like that was for history books."

Santana opened her eyes and rolled over so she could see him. Mike had never talked about what the war meant to him before. He'd always bowed his head and just done as he was told. He wasn't a fighter in the least and Santana had no idea why he'd volunteered with her. A part of her thought maybe it was to make his father proud but another part knew he'd only joined to keep her out of trouble – to protect her.

"Do you miss anyone back home?" he whispered.

Immediately Santana's mind was flooded with images of her parents, her older brother stationed in the South of France, and finally of her grandmother. She had no close friends save for Mike and she was sceptical that anyone else missed her outside of her immediate family circle. No, that wasn't true. Brittany missed her. Brittany hated every yard and metre that separated them with the same intensity that Santana did.

"Yeah," she breathed out. "You?"

"I miss Tina and my parents," he whispered. "I miss my dog and the stage. I miss the guys from the gym too. And dry socks." He grinned his stupid boyish grin at her, proud of his little joke.

Santana didn't smile back. She looked at him earnestly and bit her lip, toying with the frayed edge of an army issued blanket. "I'm sorry you had to follow me."

He punched her arm, hard. "Shut up, Santana. I didn't do this just for you. I want to do my bit too, you know? How much good would I have done dancing?"

A lot, Santana wanted to say. You would have done a lot of good. You would have kept people's spirits up in a world that had almost lost all hope. Instead she swallowed thickly and said, "Goodnight, Mike."

"Night, 'Tana."

* * *

A/N: Gimmerton is named after the village in Wuthering Heights. Also my knowledge of German and world politics is rather limited so I apologise for any mistakes.


	3. freedom bird to the world: coming home

They told us don't surrender, even if you were losing

~0~

Brittany had surveyed the changing of the lookouts the entire night. Santana hadn't made an appearance among them and part of Brittany was relieved that the American had gotten some sleep instead of freezing outside in the cold German winter. Quinn had kept her company for part of the night, half in apology for her conduct against Santana, and half out of respect for her Lieutenant. Either way, Brittany staunchly ignored her presence and Quinn didn't push for them to speak.

At first light they watched the Americans pack up their tents to march on. Brittany only hesitated for a moment before she hastily grabbed her belongings and set off after them to the tune of Sam, Quinn and Sugar's cries of surprise.

"What are you doing?" Sam yelped as he jogged after her.

"I'm following Santana," she replied simply, walking out into the clearing the Americans had occupied and following their tracks.

"After everything you said to her last night?" Quinn barked and Brittany stopped. "Are you really going to turn your back on our country like that? For her?"

Sugar watched the others interactions shakily and fiddled with the strap of her helmet. Brittany glanced at her momentarily. Sugar liked them all. She liked Sam's impersonations of old movies she'd never seen before. She liked that she and Quinn could talk about history and theology long into the night. She liked that Brittany always made sure her food rations were stocked and that she was warm at night, sometimes going as far as giving up her own blanket. If it came down to choosing a side Brittany had no clue in which way Sugar would deviate. After all, they had all been taught to serve the Fatherland but, after last night, their entire world had been thrown off its axis. Brittany could empathise.

"No! Of course not!" Brittany responded, affronted by the fact that Quinn could even attack her with such an accusation.

"Well it looks like that's exactly what you're doing!"

"I love my country!" she roared, angry tears welling up in her eyes. She turned to Sugar imploringly. "I love my country," she said more quietly.

"But you love her too," Sam said. It was not an accusation but it sure felt like one.

"Why can't I love them both?" she asked them frantically. Her eyes were wild and her cheeks were red and tear stained.

"Because we're at war with America," Quinn said softly and Brittany hated how easy it sounded. How politicians they had never met had decreed Germany to be at war with a country Brittany didn't remember had given them any trouble at all.

"But …" she hiccupped, glancing at each of them. "We're at war with _everyone_."

Sam, Quinn and Sugar were silent.

"How is it that everyone else is wrong?" Brittany thought aloud. "What have the French done to us? The English? The Irish—" Sugar flinched. "The Americans, Italy, Spain and Greece? What have they done to warrant us killing them?"

Quinn opened her mouth but faltered on an explanation. Sam hung his head. Sugar had long since fallen silent, big brown eyes watching Brittany like she was some deity come down from the sky. Brittany glanced at the trail the Americans had taken and took a deep preparatory breath.

"I love her. But I also love my country and will always try to protect it. But … last night gave me a long time to think. Maybe we need to protect our country against itself?"

"So you think our leaders are wrong?" Sugar said in a small tiny voice.

"I think a lot of what they've told us doesn't add up," Brittany said after a moment. "I could be wrong. I don't know. All I know is that I can't let Santana get killed."

"Can we come with you?" Sam asked meekly.

Brittany smiled at him. "I'd like that."

She looked to Quinn who turned her head away.

* * *

The marched on and on without any signs of stopping. Santana could feel her legs cramping up and watched Mike helplessly as he struggled to keep pace with the rest of the battalion. Puckerman had kindly taken Mike's pack on his own shoulders and clapped the man's back in encouragement. A few times they heard the shrill sound of fighter jets roaring above which meant they weren't too far off the fighting.

"Captain!" Puckerman called up to the front of the battalion, "I think a plane crashed over there! There's smoke! Permission to investigate?"

Finn stopped the march and scoped the area that his Lieutenant had pointed out. Indeed it did look like a plane had been taken down and crash landed on the other side of a river in a meadow. A plume of black smoke was drifting lazily up into the air and Santana and the others gripped their weapons more securely.

"Granted."

"Lopez, Walsh, Brown and Karofsky – you're with me," Puckerman told them. "The rest of you stay with the Captain and march on."

Santana felt Mike grip her hand and she hugged him hard. "Be careful," she muttered.

"You too."

They nodded tersely at each other and separated. Santana followed Puckerman towards the smoke and felt Karofsky nudge her shoulder with the butt of his gun. "You and the Chinaman an item?"

"His name is Mike," she spat. "You'd best remember it."

"Ooh, looks like a struck a nerve there," he teased as they waded through the small river, arms up over their heads to protect their guns from the water. "Name's Dave."

"And I'm not interested."

He laughed and Santana wanted to hit him but instead she bowed her head and aimed her gun as they approached the crash site. It had been a plane alright. But they couldn't tell if it was an enemy or an ally from the damage sustained. Puckerman approached the still burning contraption and had Walsh and Brown give him a boost to see if the pilot was still inside.

"There's someone definitely in there!" Puckerman yelled and Santana crouched down with Dave and lowered her weapon. Puckerman smashed the glass of the cockpit with a well aimed bullet and several minutes later they'd pulled out the unconscious female pilot from inside, laying her down on the ground and checking her vitals.

"Pulse is a little weak," Walsh said under his breath, "And her injuries are more superficial than anything else." He checked her uniform and smiled briefly in recognition. "And she's one of us. Flight Lieutenant Berry."

At the sound of her name the girl moaned as she came to and Walsh hurriedly took her helmet off. Her eyes fluttered and she seemed confused to see an American soldier bending over her. So confused in fact, that she reeled her fist back and bashed Walsh squarely in the face.

Santana and Puckerman roared with laughter while Dave and Brown watched on in shocked amazement as Walsh groaned and spat out some blood, covering his face with his hands. Flight Lieutenant Berry heaved herself into a sitting position and stuttered out her apologies when she realized what she had done, eyes brimming with sudden tears of both shock and relief.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, oh god are you okay?"

"He's fine, Lieutenant," Puckerman chortled. "That was a nice hit."

"Thank you, Sir," Berry squeaked. She turned to see her crashed plane and winced. Her eyes looked pained as they ran the length of the aircraft, almost like she was looking at a dear deceased friend in his coffin. "It was my 100th flight with Barbara," she said remorsefully to no one in particular.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I heard that right. You named your plane Barbara?" Santana said slowly as she and Dave rose to their feet and Puckerman grabbed a hold of Walsh and tugged him upright.

"Yes, of course." Berry looked at her as though the thought of _not_ naming her plane was ludicrous. "After Barbara Streisand."

* * *

Brittany fell to the ground as a round of bullets sprayed the battlefield. Quinn and Sam were up ahead firing and Sugar was at her side, shuddering, but firing all the same. Brittany had slid into autopilot. Conscious thought had left to leave place for overpowering grief and pain. They'd stumbled upon Santana's battalion ten minutes ago and watched as they were ambushed on the edge of a river and annihilated where they stood by fellow German troops hidden in the marshes. The sight had driven her mad until she'd opened fire on the small German unit and more than likely condemned them all to death for treason.

"We need to surrender!" Quinn yelled back at her. "Brittany, you need to plead insanity!"

"THEY KILLED HER!" she roared, "THEY CAN ALL GO TO HELL!"

Sugar yelped when Brittany rose to her feet and thundered a battle cry before advancing and shooting anything that moved. Sam took off after her and protected her flank at the same time that Quinn snarled a small prayer to God and ran after them. Sugar cursed at being left behind before she picked herself up and sprinted after her small group under a wave of bullets and angry screaming Germans.

"You see this, Quinn?" Brittany growled as they dropped low and she killed three oncoming German soldiers with a few well aimed bullets. "Can you honestly tell me this is right? That she deserved to die?"

Quinn swallowed thickly and shook her head. "No one deserves to die like this," she replied as she took down one of her own.

"GRENADE!" Sam bellowed and they all scrambled out of the way as the device was tossed into the air.

Sugar and Sam dove into the river for cover while Quinn and Brittany were sent flying from the blast. They hastily got to their feet again, bleeding and injured, heads ringing and hands shaking terribly, but unwilling to allow themselves to be easy targets for Santana's murderers.

"I hate war!" Sugar screeched as she let loose a round of bullets that embedded in one of the German's chests. "I really fucking hate it! I hate that I could be in school right now! I hate it, I hate it, I hate it!"

"Just keep shooting," Sam ordered, eyes wide nonetheless at Sugar's eruption.

"LAY DOWN YOUR ARMS OR WE WILL SHOOT!" An amplified American voice shouted and the Germans stopped firing on each other to see where it was coming from.

Standing up on the trail where their comrades had been killed stood the other half of Santana's battalion and, to Brittany's furious relief, there too stood Santana in her heavily padded American uniform. She had never looked more perfect.

Santana was looking at one of the bodies, at _Mike's_ body, frozen in place, but then her eyes were back on the situation at hand. Their gazes locked and Brittany felt tears well up.

She knew in that moment that any ties she had to any country would never be greater than the loyalty and love she felt for Santana.

A shot was fired. Brittany screamed as hot metal pierced through her skin and lodged itself in her hip. She fell and heard Santana scream in rage before the Americans had joined the fight and were unmercifully shooting in every direction. Quinn crouched down next to her as she began to sob and cry out at the pain shuddering along her body.

"Brittany! Brittany, stay with me! Brittany! I'm sorry that I didn't listen to you. I'm so sorry, Brittany!"

Her vision was getting blurry. The pain was eclipsing every other sensation. She couldn't feel the grass under her head or smell the blood on the ground. She couldn't feel Quinn and Sugar's hands on her hair and face or feel Sam scrambling to get her trousers down to see the extent of the damage.

The last thing she did hear before she blacked out was Santana screaming her name.

* * *

Brittany awoke in a sweet smelling room. It smelled like her bedroom back home in her little village; in the brown bricked house with the yellow shutters and boxes of flowers on the windowsills. She could hear little girls playing outside and that too reminded her of home. Of Emilia and Johanna playing hopscotch in their little front yard and their mother baking short crust pastries and cooling them on the kitchen counter for sticky fingers to come find later.

She groaned and opened her eyes, startled to find that she was indeed inside her bedroom. Its lilac walls shone with the sunlight streaming through the lace curtains and she sat up, yelping with pain and pressing her hand down against her hip. She gritted her teeth and looked around for something to help her move around, to investigate how she'd come to be home.

"You want some help?"

Brittany looked up to see her mother standing and smirking in the doorway with a wheelchair. Brittany smiled gratefully back at her and together they heaved her into the chair until Brittany was being pushed through the house and outside into the fresh air.

"We're glad you're awake," her mother said close to her ear, bending to kiss her cheek warmly. "We took your drip out yesterday because Johanna said you'd get hungry and wake up."

"That girl knows me better than anyone else," Brittany replied with a chuckle. "But … Ma, what happened?"

"You were shot, sweetheart. You were in in a coma in hospital for about month. They said it was from the shock of what had happened. And I'm sure you'll be more than happy to hear that the war is over." Her mother kissed her again, harder this time, as though to make sure that her daughter was well and truly awake at last.

Brittany had more questions. How had they transported her to a hospital? Where were Quinn, Sam, Sugar and Santana? Did the German people know of her shameful act of treason ? Or was this another secret she'd have to bring to the grave along with the number of Americans she had killed? Her musings were interrupted by two tiny voices screeching from the end of the garden as she was wheeled out onto the covered patio. A barbeque was going on and the smell of spring was everywhere. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes.

"BRITT-BRITT!"

And then she had Johanna and Emilia in her arms and she was holding them tight and crying into their perfect silky hair. Her little babies seemed to have grown so tall since the last time she'd seen them. Three years was a long time. Johanna was now a beautiful young lady of eleven and Emilia was a tall bright eyed eight year old with a front tooth missing.

"Good to see you awake, Britt."

Brittany looked around and almost sobbed. All of her friends were seated at a long table piled with food smiling at her and raising their beer bottles in salute. Quinn was sat next to a tiny young brunette woman and they smiled brightly at each other and at Brittany. Sam and Sugar were seated next to a man with a mohawk who allowed Johanna and Emilia to sit on his lap when they'd retreated from the circle of Brittany's arms.

And finally there she was.

"Welcome back, Brittany," Santana murmured as she knelt in front of the woman in the wheelchair, leaned in and kissed her with such emotion Brittany thought her heart would malfunction.

They kissed and kissed, tongues tangling and hands grasping forcefully before they were reminded of Brittany's injury when the latter yelped pitifully into Santana's mouth after a brusque movement. Santana laughed and pulled away, kissing her love's pout away before pushing her towards the barbeque. A great cheer rose and Brittany couldn't help but grin.

"C'mon, you love birds!" Puck called in jest. "Bet you're starving!"

Brittany smiled sheepishly when her stomach growled unhappily and everyone laughed.

"I have to say that your girlfriend is a delight, Brittany," her mother said happily an hour into the festivities. "She's regaled me with so many stories of the beaches and attractions in California and the girls are really looking forward to coming to visit you."******  
**

"Coming to visit … us?" Brittany echoed with a frown turning to see Santana's sly grin.

"Either you come with me or I stay with you," Santana murmured around her burger. "Make up your mind, Pierce."

Brittany laughed throatily and lowered Santana's burger for her before kissing her soundly and perfectly, feeling her heart fracture with love and adoration for the woman who had saved her. She grabbed Santana's hand and interlaced their fingers as she faced her little sisters.

"Do you guys like building sand castles?"

Quinn smiled and the woman, _Rachel_ Brittany had learned, held her hand happily over the table and chattered away about Broadway to Puckerman and Sam. Sugar was deep in conversation with Brittany's mother and little sisters about Johanna and Emilia's piano playing while Brittany and Santana murmured countless plans against each other's lips. Houses on the beach, family and friends visiting, summer weddings, kids, cars, jobs and love.

* * *

When the air began to cool, Santana helped Brittany's mother Alicia to clear up the dishes from the table, chattering in faltering German and English. Brittany watched them retreat inside the house with a little smile and was only brought back to the conversation taking place at the table when Quinn tugged at her pyjama sleeve.

"Hmm?"

"I've been working on my English," Quinn said nervously playing with the fingers interlaced with her own. "Rachel has asked me to come to New York with her. There are openings in Broadway pits for violin players."

"She is very good," Rachel said in hesitant German. "She was part of the Berlin Philharmonic for a long time, yes?" She directed this at Quinn who blushed under her gaze and nodded.

"You played violin with the Philharmonic orchestra?" Brittany's eyes popped at her friend.

Quinn smiled, small and wry, and looked down at the grease splattered tablecloth. "I didn't say anything because it was something pure that I didn't want the war to ruin. You know?"

Looking at Johanna and Emilia trying to eat their burgers as fast as the boys, Brittany nodded.

"What about you and Rachel? Are you two together?" She gestured at their interlocked hands and both girls reddened slightly before smiling shyly back at Brittany.

"We met at the hospital visiting you," Rachel said brightly in her own language this time. "I was bringing Santana some food – poor dear never left your side – anyway, there was this stunning blonde woman with her praying over you. She looked up and BAM. Instant connection you know?"

Quinn raised their interlocked hands and kissed Rachel's knuckles affectionately. Brittany grinned at them both, knowing exactly what kind of feelings were running through their veins. The same emotions she felt for Santana she was sure.

"What's everyone talking about?" Alicia giggled when she and Santana sat back down.

"Quinn is going to New York to become a musician!" Johanna crowed happily from her end of the table.

"Really?" Alicia said in an impressed tone. "I didn't know you played, Quinn."

"A little, ma'am," she replied politely.

"That's good," Santana said to Brittany, "We'll have your friends nearby when we move."

Brittany kissed her.

* * *

Sugar, Sam and Lieutenant Noah Puckerman hugged everyone goodbye when evening descended over Brittany's home. Noah – Puck, Santana reminded her - had checked into a hotel for the week before he, Rachel and Santana were to be deported back home to receive their medals and be honourably discharged. Quinn and Brittany would follow them a week later when the latter could swap her wheelchair for a fashionable pair of crutches. Sugar and Sam meanwhile, we're going to travel to their respective towns and promised to keep in touch. Brittany had to swallow the lump in her throat when Sugar thanked her for keeping them alive and when Sam kissed her cheek as they loaded up their things in Sam's truck.

"Come visit us," Brittany said thickly when Sam was reversing his truck out of the driveway. Sugar in the passenger seat was blubbering quietly in a tissue and Puck beside her threw an arm around her shoulders in companionship. Sam had assured the towering American that it was no trouble to them to drop him off at his hotel before they made their journey home.

"Of course, Lieutenant," Sam said. "We wouldn't want you to forget the people who saved your ass!"

Santana kissed her when Sam's taillights were swallowed by the inky darkness and Brittany allowed herself a tender smile when she was wheeled through the house and back to her bedroom where Johanna and Emilia were sitting on her bed with a book open between them. Rachel and Quinn had excused themselves to the guest room hours ago and she didn't want to think what they could be doing in there.

"Can you read us a story?" Emilia asked uncertainly, unsure if they had outgrown such things in the years that their older sister had been absent.

"I'd love to."

Brittany allowed Santana to lift her from the chair and deposit her in the middle of the bed with a small groan of effort. Johanna immediately moulded herself to her sister's uninjured side and opened the book on the last page that they had read. Brittany's chest caught when she realized it was the last page she had read to them three years ago.

"We wanted you to finish it," Johanna whispered and Brittany kissed her forehead and then kissed Emilia's hair reverently.

They waited until Santana had changed into her pyjamas and slunk in beside Brittany, kissing her lightly and letting Emilia settle happily in her lap, before Brittany adopted her serious story-telling voice that made Emilia giggle throatily. Santana smiled widely in recognition of the story and squeezed Emilia a little more tightly in her arms.

"When at last they awoke, it was already dark night. Gretel began to cry and said: "How are we to get out of the forest now?" But Hansel comforted her and said: "Just wait a little, until the moon has risen, and then we will soon find the way." And when the full moon had risen, Hansel took his little sister by the hand, and followed the pebbles which shone like newly-coined silver pieces, and showed them the way."

Brittany caught Santana's eye and they smiled at each other and at the little girls in their arms, enraptured by the story, unaware of the menacing cruel reality that lay outside of their home and their stories. The reality their older sister had experienced; the reality that had allowed Brittany to meet her one true love in the middle of a lethal war that had almost killed them both. But they'd made it. She and Santana were alive and loved each other and were about to live their happily ever after. Just like Hansel and Gretel.

"I love you," Santana whispered against Brittany's throat.

Brittany felt true adoration blossom in her heart. She would leave Johanna and Emilia to Hansel and Gretel. She and Santana's fairy tale would remain theirs alone.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading :)


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